


Concatenation

by autisticromana (eloralouistra)



Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloralouistra/pseuds/autisticromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Romana/Narvin ficlet for each of the first 18 episodes of Gallifrey, on the growth of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concatenation

**Author's Note:**

> With many thanks to the wonderful agapi42 for the beta.
> 
> Ficlets for the series V and VI episodes will eventually appear too, as soon as I get round to writing them. But that could take a while.

Weapon of Choice

They watch as the TARDIS dematerialises.

“Well,” says Narvin acidly, “now we just have to hope that  _alien_  doesn’t ruin the whole mission.”

Romana scowls at him. “That alien is far more likely to succeed than your CIA half-wit,” she snaps, “who, may I remind you, let the device be stolen in the first place.”

“That was not his fault! And may I remind  _you_ , Madam President, that with the savage’s husband… missing, she has no justification for returning to Gallifrey. She should remain on Gryben-“

“Coordinator,” Romana interrupts, “If you cannot tolerate the Lady Leela’s presence, you are perfectly free to leave the Capitol at any time.” She takes a breath, in an effort to maintain her composure. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

She manages not to laugh at the look on his face until she’s out of the berthing bay and the door has shut between them.

 

Square One

Romana would admit that sending Coordinator Narvin to the trans-temporal summit was not a particularly diplomatic action. The problem with diplomacy, though, is that it so often equates to boredom. In fact, the only things saving countless High Council meetings from utter tedium are the shouting matches with her Coordinator over Gallifrey’s involvement with other species. Romana knows that with Narvin in attendance, the summit will at least be interesting.

 

The Inquiry

There are a lot of things Andred hasn’t been certain about since his regeneration. He’s not even sure who he  _is_  now, much less what he set out to do. Still, he’s fairly convinced that compassion, intuition, emotion, honesty, integrity and pragmatism aren’t usually seen as vices, even in the CIA. And he’s learnt since then that in a job where deceit and distrust are the main principles, compliments are always more genuine the less direct they are. It’s some comfort at least, to be able to understand the Coordinator’s problems better than Narvin himself seems to.

A Blind Eye

The floor shakes beneath them as the other train approaches.

The trains collide, a shockwave rushing forwards, and Romana manages to suppress a shriek as she’s thrown off-balance cursing the impracticalities of high heeled shoes.

She’s yanked upright again as Narvin grabs her waist, preventing her fall.

They stand gasping for a moment, pressed against each other, before Romana pulls herself free of his grip and hurries down the corridor.

“You’re welcome, Madam President,” Narvin mutters, following her.

 

Lies

“I don’t suppose we could send a medical team back for Narvin and… forget where exactly we’d left him?” Braxiatel gazes down at the Coordinator’s unconscious body in distaste.

“That would be intolerable, Cardinal,” says Romana sternly but she follows it with a smile. “He’d probably be twice as irritating as normal when he finally found his way out.”

Brax sighs. “I’m amazed at your strength in refraining from sacking him.”

Romana shrugs. “Well, he does have  _some_  good points.” Brax raises his eyebrows at that and she grins, taking his arm. “At least Narvin’s never going to be wretched and obsequious.”

“No, my lady,” he says fervently, glancing back at the body. “Never.”

 

Spirit

Narvin wonders why he’s not relieved by the President’s holiday. He should be pleased to get a few days of peace, free from haughty demands to stop projects that will be of benefit to Gallifrey and disdainful putdowns when he points out that he’s doing his job. He doesn’t have to budget his time so carefully, knowing that today she won’t be wasting it in taking out her every frustration on him.

Instead, he feels resentful that she’s left Gallifrey with only a handful of guards and an alien for protection, having flatly refused to allow any of his agents to accompany her, despite the handling of off-world affairs being his duty. He can’t stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong, can’t stop himself thinking up arguments to try to convince her to take better security, can’t stop thinking of  _her_.

He wonders, briefly, if Darkel’s right. If he’s allowing even the  _though_ t of the President to interfere with his work this much, perhaps it would be best to replace her.

 

Pandora

If he was being honest with himself, Narvin supposes that technically, the matter  _does_ come under Wynter’s jurisdiction more than his. The reason he’s now busy arguing it over with his President is just because Narvin knows he’s  _better_  at Wynter’s job than Wynter is.

At this moment, his President is giving the frustrated sigh he’s so used to hearing from her. “Narvin, despite your countless failings as a person, I believe you  _could_  handle the investigation much more competently than Wynter. So does Darkel.”

He is slightly mollified; it’s the closest thing to a compliment she’s ever going to give him but he continues to glare at her. “So why _aren’t_  I allowed to handle to handle the investigation,  _my lady?”_

“Braxiatel persuaded me to put Wynter in charge because it’s the best way for him to gain the experience he needs.”

Narvin’s frown only deepens. “Of course. What would the President ever do without the expert advice of Cardinal Braxiatel?”

“It’s just nice to have someone you can trust,” says Romana coldly. “But I don’t suppose you’d know that.”

 

Insurgency

He shouldn’t be worried about her. The security of Gallifrey, the effectualness of the President; those are causes for concern. But he shouldn’t be worried about  _her_.

Narvin disagrees with practically every decision that President Romana has made. He has nothing but contempt for her liberal beliefs. He’s never met  _anyone_ who maddens him as much as she does.

Maybe it’s because now that Braxiatel’s gone, now that the savage is away at the Academy, there’s no one else left to stop Romana putting herself in danger. Whatever the reasons, Narvin has suddenly found out that he  _cares_ , and he doesn’t like  _that_  at all.

 

Imperiatrix

Romana knows the fight is far from over. She should be making plans, trying to gain allies, thinking of a way to deal with… the  _other_  Romana. And instead, she’s hurrying towards the medical station.

*

“I thought you did not care about Narvin.”

Romana glances up from the computer monitoring Narvin’s hearts rate to see Leela smiling teasingly at her. “I don’t want him dead,” she says, just about managing to appear indifferent.

Leela’s grin only widens. “Earlier you told him you might have him vaporized,” she points out.

“He did just save my life,” mutters Romana, looking back at Narvin. He’s obviously recovering and that relieves her a lot more than she thinks it should.

“You pretend to hate him when you do not. You  _like_  having someone who will argue with you.”

“I do not!” she protests. Leela raises her eyebrows and Romana knows she’ll have no peace until she gives in a little. “All right,” she confesses. “Maybe, on occasion, Narvin isn’t  _entirely_  detestable. But don’t  _ever_ tell him I said that, Leela.”

Fractures

There are a number of unspoken rules of survival at the CIA. Narvin would never deny that his exceptional intelligence and devotion to his planet had helped him earn his position but he knows a large part of his success is down to knowing how to survive in his job. Knowing, for example, that when injured, you should look after yourself before worrying about anyone else. You should find out how bad the wound to your head is, how long you’ve been unconscious, before, for example, asking where Romana is.

Later, Narvin tells Leela he cannot allow the Sentience in the Anomaly Vaults to possess a President; it’s perfectly true and it’s enough to hide his slip up from her. It’s a lot harder to hide it from himself though, and he curses his mistake. Asking where the President was would have been acceptable but recently; Narvin’s cared far more about Romana’s safety, than that of the Madam President.

 

Warfare

Once Leela is sure Romana is sleeping peacefully, she sits down against the bed and reaches out to K-9, glad to have him back, the familiarity a comfort in her darkness.

“K-9? Did Romana really believe she would die in the Matrix?”

“Affirmative, Mistress,” says K-9. He sounds sad but Leela knows he would never admit to his feelings. In some ways, K-9 is too much like a Time Lord. “Mistress Romana was surprised by our survival. Hypothesis is that Anomaly Creature released us from the Matrix as after devouring Pandora, the Mistress was no longer an anomaly.”

“I know, K-9. Narvin persuaded the creature to let you go. He said he had to save his President.”

She hears the motion of K-9’s ears, a sign that he is considering this. “On our release, Mistress Romana asked me who she had to ‘thank, promote and generally be exceedingly nice to from now on.”

Leela starts to smile as she realises what K-9 means. “If we tell Romana of this, what are the chances she will be exceedingly nice to Narvin from now on?”

“Calculating, mistress. Probability: zero point zero, zero, zero…”

"I do not think we should tell her, K-9," she grins. "Romana needs to rest and it would not be fair to give her such a shock."

"Affirmative, Mistress."

 

Appropriation

 Narvin stares after Janartis, awful comprehension dawning on him.

“He’s going to give Romana to the Sunari. Acting President, we must stop him!”

Valyes dithers. “Oh… well… how? All communications are down, we can’t call anybody to go after him.”

Narvin grits his teeth, preventing himself from groaning. At the outbreak of a war, Valyes was only just a better President than Darkel would be.

“I’ll go after him myself, then,” he says, striding towards the door.

“No, wait! Your duty is to protect me if the Sunari get in!” The Acting President seems to remember he is supposed to be a respectable Time Lord, instead of a whimpering fool and he regains the little command he has. “And does it really matter, anyway? As I told you, Romana is no longer important!”

“Commander Janartis is not following orders. It is not his place to decide how we are to negotiate!”

“Well, yes but… it may still be the most advisable action. We must at least think about all the ramifications before–”

The sound of firing has faded now; Narvin would guess the nearest Sunari were a corridor or so away. Gripping his staser, he opens the door.

“Narvin! Come back at once!”

But Narvin doesn’t have time to think about the ramifications, so he leaves anyway. He does experience a moment of remorse; he hasn’t ever disobeyed his President before. But, then again, Valyes  _isn’t_  his President.

 

Mindbomb

“You want me to look through Braxiatel’s records to find something you do not know is in there,” says Leela slowly.

“Yes-“

“Narvin, I am  _blind_.”

Narvin realises he should probably have noticed this flaw a little earlier. “Oh. Yes.”

Leela gives a snort of derision and he quickly adds, “It was Romana’s idea.  _She_  didn’t realise-“

“Why are you helping Romana? You say you do not wish for Darkel to be President, but would it not be easier just to give your support to Matthias?” Leela is grinning and it makes Narvin suddenly nervous.

“I… Romana is… she was a good President.” He wonders if Leela can hear how hard his hearts are beating.

“You have always said she was a bad President.” She pats his shoulder, still smirking. “It is all right, Narvin. K-9 will help me search. It must be hard for you to think of a good plan when you are alone with  _Romana_. You must have had…  _other_ things to think about.”

The only mercy is that she can’t see how red his cheeks are; otherwise this would probably go down as the most mortifying moment of his lives. “Leela-” he manages, in little more than a squeak.

She turns to leave, pausing in the doorway. “Remember, Narvin, just because I am a blind savage, it does not mean I am stupider than you can be.”

Narvin doesn’t think he’s ever appreciated how true that is before.

 

Panacea

Narvin knows Romana will be safer and happier away from Gallifrey. That doesn’t stop the pain he feels at knowing he’s about to lose her. He watches as she follows Matthias down the corridor, on their way to the Catacombs and wonders whether his life will ever be the same once she’s gone.

“Romana,” he calls. She turns back towards him, without speaking. “Good luck.”

He knows it’s too much to expect she’ll thank him. He can’t help hoping she will. Romana nods, before walking away.

 

Reborn

If the others ask him afterwards, Narvin will say he was gathering information about this Gallifrey, waiting to hear drunkenly babbled secrets. He’ll insist that the only reason he was having something to drink himself was to preserve his cover. And anyway, he’s been trained to deceive – if they do ask, he’ll actually be following “President” Leela’s orders.

Narvin misses his home. This world is a cruel parody of the real Gallifrey, just similar enough to remind him of how much he’s lost. He feels more alone than he’s ever been before, he may not have had friends on Gallifrey but at least he had a purpose. Here, he has nothing and means nothing to his only companions. Braxiatel had never planned to bring him here in the first place. Leela thinks the tin dog makes a better Castellan than he would. Romana obviously couldn’t care less that he’s here. She still prefers Braxiatel’s company to his, even after his betrayals. Narvin wonders what he’s supposed to do to earnher trust and approval. He can’t fawn to her as if she’s perfect, the way Brax does, when he loves her for her temper and stubbornness and the way she drives him insane.

He knows he should try to forget about her. It’s the logical thing to do when he has nothing to gain and risks making a fool of himself. Before, that might have been possible. Only now that he’s lost Gallifrey, everything that he devoted his life to, it seems logical to devote himself to the woman who represents everything Gallifrey is, and is the very best part of all of it.

 

Disassembled

Once, Romana had thought she’d stay with the Doctor forever. She’d been young and foolish in those days and not afraid to be in love. Then she’d left him, grown up, grown cold. She’d become the President, become unfeeling, unhappy. Whenever she sees him now, she can’t ignore his look of disappointment at what she’s become. She can’t help the way it kills her a little more each time.

This Doctor doesn’t know who she used to be; when  _he_  looks at her she knows he‘s thinking of his own President and she wonders if he sees any difference between them. She can’t look at him without remembering the last time she saw the Doctor and what he said before he left. “Enjoy your corruption, Romana.” And the worst part of it is that she became President to help the universe, to make the Time Lords better, to try to do what  _he_  did. But she failed and he’ll never look at her the way he used to again.

It’s still not enough to make her give up. If there’s one rule the Doctor taught her that she still abides by, it’s that whatever happens, whatever the odds, she never, ever, ever gives up. And besides, there’s one thing she didn’t have when she travelled with him. He’ll always be disappointed by the things she did wrong and she’ll never be good enough for him again but now, she’s got someone who will believe in her whatever she does, tell her when she’s wrong and then fight for her unwaveringly. The only problem is that he leaves her even more confused and frustrated than the Doctor ever did.

 

Annihilation

Despite everything that’s happened to him over the last few months, everything that’s changed him - more than he’d ever like to admit - Narvin is still a rational man. He can still work out that he’ll gain nothing by rushing off to save Romana straight away. Even with Leela’s tracking skills, Arcalia could still kill Romana before they got near. He can do nothing for Romana without the support of Borusa and her people and he can’t get that support unless he helps Cloris now.

But even as he runs to fetch a medic, he can’t help the stupid, irrational voice in the back of his mind that tells him he’s going the wrong way. And later, when he stands at the door of Cloris’ tent, as Borusa tells them about the Ancient Enemy, as Leela suggests that Romana isn’t important to Prydon’s people after all, he wishes that wasn’t the only voice saying there’s still time to save her.

 

Forever

 She won’t think of the Chancellor as Narvin. She  _can’t_  think of him as Narvin, not when he’s willing to have an innocent women murdered just to show that he  _can_. Not when he can lie to her like that and make her believe-

 _Don’t even_ think _of it_ , she tells herself.

The Chancellor enters the room and comes to stand behind her. Romana refuses to acknowledge him, keeping her gaze on the monitor, away from the man she doesn’t know. Keeping her mind on her work instead of the fear in the slave’s eyes, the way he didn’t even blink at what he was doing, the horror she felt at what Narvin was capable of. Except, she reminds herself, the real Narvin _, her_  Narvin, couldn’t ever be.

“Is there another me in your world?”

Romana tenses at the question, trying not to visibly react. It’s a thoroughly logical thing to want to know, she supposes. And she doesn’t have to tell him how she feels about this other Narvin. She certainly doesn’t have to tell him that the Narvin from her world is here, impersonating him right now.

“There’s a version of you,” she says in attempted indifference.

“Is he… like me at all?”

She intends to say yes, his counterpart is just as much an obnoxious, self-centred worm as he is. Unfortunately, what she actually says is, “He’s a better man than  _you_  could ever be.” It’s got to be down to her enduring desire to torment any Narvin she happens to be around. That’s the only acceptable explanation she can think of. “The Narvin I know puts Gallifrey before his own ambitions. He’s loyal and-” Romana manages to stop herself before she actually starts listing any  _virtues_ that Narvin could feasibly have. “He’s nothing like you!” she snaps.

The Chancellor snorts in derision. “Oh, if only I were that honourable. How much better my life would be.” He’s just as caustic as her Narvin, only it doesn’t sound right. His voice is too harsh, epitomizing all the corruption and cruelty of his world. Romana knows that if she looks at him, his eyes will be cold, with none of the expression she’s grown so used to seeing. She’s never realised just how exceptional her Narvin is before. She’s never  _wanted_  to realise.

*

Later, she watches the other Narvin die, more horrified than she’d ever have believed possible as he turns out to be so much more like his better self than she’d thought. Before the shock has even begun to wear off, she loses K-9 and Leela and finds herself trapped on a Gallifrey so far from home. And in the pain that brings, all Romana can focus on is how _strange_  it is, that the only person she has left now is the one who’s questioned her the most, never been afraid to insult her, always willing to fight her. It’s even stranger that in the end, that’s exactly what she wants.


End file.
